


Note to Self

by shadowite



Series: Don't Let Me Waste Away [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Eating Disorders, I don't know, I'm Sorry, M/M, Self Harm, Why do I do this to myself, but it just happened, definite trigger warning, hell even i'm triggered, not pro ana or mia, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:30:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1588337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowite/pseuds/shadowite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wants to be better. To be perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Note to Self

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this is actually really depressing. I'm starting to feel like nothing is ever right in the world so I'm getting my emotions out in a fic. This is my first Harry/Louis so if you could please leave comments telling me what you think that would be awesome. Also posting this on wattpad so yeah. Enjoy?

Sliding down the bathroom wall, silver salvation in his hand. He had never felt so worthless in his life. _He_ left. _He_ left because he wasn’t good enough. He was too fat, too ugly, too clingy, too stupid, too… too everything. That was two months ago. _He_ was probably fine. Living the dream can be so hard when he has a million eyes watching him. He knew that _he_ was okay. _He_ was smiling, being social, and actually living his life. He stayed inside and hid away from the world. He wore fake smiles. He wore baggy clothes. He wore himself out, trying to convince people that he was okay. He wasn’t okay.

One

 

Two

 

Three

 

Four

 

Crimson flowing freely, falling to the ground in drops like the rain. He needed more. No tears came. Not anymore anyways. Dead men don’t cry. That’s what he was. A dead man. No one wanted a dead man.

Five

 

Six

 

Seven

 

Eight

 

He smiled. It was more of a grimace. Bleeding was his new favourite pastime.

 

**Note to self: Bleeding is healing**

 

Kneeling in front of a ceramic bowl, two fingers down his throat. He’d eaten a whole meal today; just because he was out in public, and he was okay, remember? _He_ was there. He told himself that he could handle it. He couldn’t. He wasn’t okay. Here he was, trying to make himself perfect. He didn’t even want _him_ anymore. He just wanted to be better. To be perfect. He was neither of those things. So he dug further and further until his food came up along with his guilt and flushed them both away.

 

**Note to self: Purging is filling**

 

A single flame flickering, placing it against his skin. Bleeding just wasn’t enough anymore. It helped, sure, but it didn’t ease the ache he constantly felt. He looked everywhere for a new way to settle the hurt until he found this way. It was different. It didn’t help less or more, just different. It was new. It brought newness into his life. His life had become a routine since _he_ left. He’d wake up, go do whatever he was told to do by management and whatnot, come home, do whatever he needed to do to be better, and sleep (hopefully). This new way of being better helped him breathe. It was breathing, to him. His life had walked away and life support was the only thing keeping him around. Why was he still keeping himself around anyways?

 

**Note to self: Burning is soothing.**

 

 

 _He_ barged into the hotel room, searching frantically for his friend. He couldn’t lose him. Not again. He ran to the bathroom where _he_ knew he’d be, and used his entire body to break the door open. There he was, blood running down his thighs and wrists, the smell of vomit filling the room.

 

“Louis.” _He_ whispered sadly

 

And that’s all it took for him to break down crying. _He_ dropped to his knees and hugged his friend. _He_ knew that he wasn’t okay. He never really was okay, but he was going to do everything in his power to sew this broken boy back together.

 

“You left me. What the hell are you doing here.” He choked through his tears

 

“I didn’t want to. I swear on my life. It was never my idea but I couldn’t say no. They said they would kick you out if I didn’t comply. I’d never do that. I love you so much Lou.”

 

“I just wanted to be better. For you, for everyone. I’m not perfect. I need to be perfect. I knew it wasn’t your fault but this stupid fucking voice told me that it was my fault. I was too fat, too ugly, too stupid, too clingy, too… too everything! And now you’re back and I’m just a broken mess.”

 

“Tell that stupid fucking voice that I’m here and I will kick its ass into next week if he doesn’t stop feeding you lies. You are the sun. You shine so brightly that I have to wear sunglasses to see you. You are the moon. You light up the sky when everything seems dark. You are perfect. You are not ugly, you are not fat, you are not stupid, you are not clingy, but you are everything. My everything. You may be broken, but things that are broken can always be repaired. It’s going to be hard, but you’re so strong Louis. So strong. I believe in you. I love you”

 

“I love you too Haz. I’m so sorry.”

 

The two boys sat there for a long time, crying as Harry gently cleaned Louis’ fresh cuts. There was no longer he and _he._ There was only they. Harry and Louis. Louis and Harry. They.

 

**Note to self: Bleeding is not okay**

**Purging is not okay**

**Burning is not okay**

**You want to know what is okay?**

 

**Me. I'm okay.**

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was pretty bad...


End file.
